Today in the cold and wind, we needed to be in Mankato for several appointments. Not very many years ago . . . well maybe decades ago, there would not have been a trip anywhere from home when the temperatures were in the minus. In today’s world, our vehicles are more trustworthy. There were a few vehicles parked beside the highway that had not been made aware of that. Dennis and I were very happy to arrive safely home in the late afternoon, appointments met and a few additional errands run. Oh, how we love our little home on Stauffer Avenue.
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Noreen
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Noreen
Small town heroes are still in our midst. The early morning hours of the 27th of December we had several inches of snow. Ever ready Dennis went out in the morning and got our the snow blower. After two passes on the drive it abruptly stopped. It has some age on it and every season has been a blessing. With help, Dennis took it out to a repair fellow that fixes some items on the side. As luck would have it, Charlie and his family were taking in a Christmas vacation. Charlie came home on the 5th of January and here we are on the 6th of January and Dennis is on his way to Charlie’s to pick up the snow blower. The cost: $25.00. One of the main belts needed to be replaced. Dennis could push it and it would blow snow, but the heft that it took, was not wise. All is well thanks to small town hero, Charlie.
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Noreen
Quiet has returned to Stauffer Avenue. Dennis and I agree that sometimes we need that reminder as to how our home is our safe refuge and it may be more than some want bad enough to put in the prayer, time and energy. On a light note, I pulled a crochet pattern out and are giving the arthritic fingers a working out during these chilly days. It worked for Carrie and Kevin’s grandmother, Esther Schafer. If you don’t use the fingers, they enjoy getting a bit stiff and brittle.
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Noreen
A Post Script on ‘So Not Prepared’
As Paul Harvey would tell us, it is the rest of the story thus far.
As I told you, yesterday was Dennis’ day to take in a trade show 40 miles from home. When the police officer brought Dennis’ son here yesterday at noon under the influence, the agreement after a phone call to Dennis was that Jeff was to stay in our heated garage porch until Dennis got home. I gave Dennis credit. The trade show lasted until five and Dennis came home after the show closed. This had been his plan, and Jeff or no Jeff, he meant to have it. Does it sound awful? No, this was not our first rodeo with Jeff. Jeff was dropped off here wearing a sweatshirt and jeans. The day did progress to getting colder by the hour. The heat in the garage porch never goes below 40-45, so I knew one of two things: Jeff would not freeze to death and he had been here in the garage porch before, he knew where the thermostat was.
When Dennis came home, I stayed in the house and dad and son would have to look at each other face to face. By this time Jeff was sober, but he would not talk to his dad. Sullen silence is all Dennis got. Earlier in the week, Dennis and I had made plans to venture over to see nephew Brett for a visit. With no response from Jeff, Dennis told him to either stay in the porch till we got home or find somewhere else. Jeff probably would have been gone when we got home, if the phone in the porch had been in working order, and by this time the snow was beginning to fall and the wind was fierce. We did stop and pick up a takeout food package for Jeff as we knew he had not eaten for some time.
When we got home I went directly into the house and Dennis headed back to the garage porch with food for Jeff. When Dennis came in and ask me to get the sleeping bag from the attic, I knew what Jeff was in for. Not willing to talk to the dad, who he had asked to be taken to in his hour of need by the police officer, was the last straw for my ole cowboy Dennis. This may very well have felt to Jeff as if he were homeless. Well . . . to wrap up that scenario, no one from Watonwan County Human Services knocked on our door to take us in for inhuman treatment.
This morning, Dennis took coffee out to the garage porch and the plan was that Jeff would have to spend the day with Dennis as Dennis took Jeff along to the last day of the trade show. Via phone communication, after the trade show, Dennis will take Jeff to a determined location between here and there and Jeff and the gal that he came to St. James with will finish this drama . . . not. The only thing Dennis knew for sure, Dennis would be coming home alone.
There comes a time when Dennis and I feel we are definitely too old for some events in this world. Families, and I mean all families have issues, but dealing with alcohol is a no win. The “no win” is real and lasting and can be fatal. For the life of me, all other issues among family members is mute. Those issues are trivial and not life threatening. Dennis and I are so proud and happy to be parents of seven children, yes that includes Jeff, grandparents to ten and great grandparents to six, but our energies are needed for all of the family, not just for the one that pulls with one hand and pushes back with both hands.
The sun is out today and even if the temps are sub-zero, I pray that when Dennis comes home this evening he will feel okay. This weekend, as sad and emotionally draining as it was, still put Dennis in a place of having to be real with his child. No matter how often Jeff has put his dad through this, it never gets easier. I know that when Dennis does drop off Jeff, Jeff will know that we are not in, or up to, this type of a visit in the anywhere near future. On second thought, Jeff won’t get it.
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Noreen
So Not Prepared
All good things must come to an end . . . whether we are ready for it for not.
Dennis headed to Fairmont this morning to take in a trade show and catch up with friends who only see each other a few times a year. The weekend event had been on Dennis’ agenda for some time.
I began the Saturday morning with the Swiffer to take in all the dust bunnies. It is amazing how much lint can accumulate with just the two of us trumping through the home. Our laundry area is right off the kitchen, so I can respect that some of the bunnies escape in the general handling of clothes. As per the lint screen, I would be hard pressed to realize that there was more that could escape.
I was startled when I heard pounding on the door at the same time that the doorbell was ringing. When I saw a police officer, my heart immediately raced thinking of Dennis’ well being. Very politely the officer ask to come in and then he informed me that he had brought Jeff Curry to our garage porch. The officer went on to say Jeff was drunk and had been abandoned at the Super 8 Motel, by the woman who he and had checked in with the night before. I was so not prepared for this. Jeff had moved to Iowa sometime in the last four months, but it was not unusual that he would not stay in contact.
Jeff, at the age of 50, has battled alcohol for decades. When he is sober, you could not ask for a better person or worker. His skills in carpentry and all types of construction are stellar. Oh yes, he is always so sure he can handle “just one.”
So, here we are. One more time, out of how many times of having to wonder what to do with Jeff? I called Dennis and allowed him to know what was going on. The police officer and Dennis agreed that Jeff should stay in the porch until Dennis could get home. I was advised by the police to stay in the house with the door locked. People under the influence can be very persuasive and Jeff is a pro at it. In all honesty I cannot recount how many times we have been taken in emotionally – and financially.
I have no idea how this Saturday that started off so wonderfully will end. Jeff cannot stay here. Jeff’s two sisters here in town will not let him stay with them. When I informed the police officer that there was no where Jeff would be taken in, I did feel guilty. The officer was kind and reassured me that tough love cannot, and should not, waver. He also commented that the lifestyle of those who maintain their lifestyle through responsible behavior do not jeopardize that for an individual who has perhaps burned all the bridges afforded them.
Time will tell. I am waiting for Dennis to come home and I could not begin to know how this will end. This is not how 2015 should begin.
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Noreen
It was a gray raw day, but I had a list of errands that I wanted to run. It was a great feeling coming home and knowing that the day went just like it was planned. Priceless.
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Noreen
It Was Time
I was sad taking down the Christmas finery. Megan decorated the home when she was here the day after Thanksgiving. There was never a day since, that we were home that the tree lights were not lit. It had a profound relaxing effect on me.
I have a large tote with a red cover that holds 98% of the goodies. The contents are put in much like a puzzle with each item wrapped in tissue paper. All the ornaments are precious to me as I know the pain of having to replace what is near and dear.
In 1992 we had a huge 10 inch rain in the month of June and the storm sewers could not handle the amount that needed to funnel down to our street intersection. The water coming up from the floor drain and sewage coming back up from the toilet amounted to four feet deep in our basement. Many items stored on shelves were floating in the mess, including the Christmas decoration boxes. Many of the wonderful ornaments that Carrie and Kevin had made in grade school were gone. The next Christmas, we had a tree with lights on it and multiple candy canes. It was hard starting over.
A simple crocheted cross does tell us that Jesus is the reason.
We did start over and as Megan put each one on the tree, I could remember what it was that had spurred me on to purchase each one. There are also ornaments that have special meaning. Carrie and her family gave us an ornament of blown glass that has a grandma and grandpa huddled together. Kevin and Kersten gave us an ornament that has their wedding photo on it. Dennis’ granddaughter Sadie sent an ornament from Iraq when she was stationed there. I did enjoy wrapping those and every other one to be safe until next year.
The tote with the red cover is back up in the attic where it has been stored since the basement incident. The tote does gets a bit heavy, but I know that other than a tornado, it is safe.
Christmas of 2014 is officially over, but I must admit, the Christmas I hold inside of me year round gets me through some very difficult times. Because Jesus is the reason, I understand the wear and tear of my body that He has given me to be a steward of. Because Jesus is the reason, I can openly weep when family members are going through stressful times, knowing that though I cannot physically help them, He will hear my prayers. Because Jesus is the reason, my wants are so small, as I find comfort in Him. Because Jesus is the reason, I know I can feel giddy and hum a tune for no reason at all, as He has kept the child within me to live and laugh, allowing for a good balance in my day to day life. Because Jesus is the reason, I do love my life.
In life, please remember to give and have no memory of it, or take and remember it always.
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Noreen
I am as good as my word. The brussel sprouts left from Christmas Day made it into my bean and ham soup today. I enjoy using the Bear Creek dry soup mix that comes in a bag with all the seasonings that my cupboard does not have room for. The mix can be used as is with the 8 cups of water that are on the directions. This mix happened to be the Navy Bean Soup Mix. I like to use a few extra ingredients. I was awarded the ham bone from the Curry Christmas gathering dinner. I cooked off the remaining goodies that the bone was holding on to and made good use of all the great flavors. I chopped up the brussel sprouts and added carrots that I had in the refrigerator, sliced fairly thin.
Dennis came in just as I had decided to turn the burner off until this evening. Well . . . of course we did sample a bit for our noon lunch. Dennis would not choose brussel sprouts if it were offered in a side dish, but in with the soup, it added just the right punch. This soup made the perfect fare on this very cold day.
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Noreen
Fleeting Thoughts:
I did see this quote during the last week and I believe it warrants to be used as one of my fleeting thoughts.
“If you don’t design your own life plan, chances are you’ll fall into someone else’s plan. And guess what they may have planned for you? Not much.” — Jim Rohn
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Noreen
Unexpected Chores
This morning I was in the kitchen and happened to look out the east window towards the garage porch. It didn’t surprise me that through one of the patio doors I could see one of the rocking chairs was in motion. Either Honey Bunny or Butter Ball tend to take a nap in the chair and it rocks as they jump into it or jump out of it.
As the huge Sheffaleria tipped, it really did a number
on the palm plant that was sitting beside it.I continued to watch, and soon to be seen through the patio door of the porch were branches waving frantically of the huge four foot Sheffaleria plant that sits on the table behind the rocking chair. As I was trying to take in what was going on out there, the Sheffaleria plant tipped over, onto the back of the rocking chair. Bathrobe tightened up I stepped into shoes to see just what was going on.
I got into the garage and stepped down into the porch, there was not a cat in sight. Oh yes, the Sheffaleria was precariously hung up on the rocking chair back, preventing it from hitting the floor and being totally
dumped out. It took a while before my eyes traveled farther east in the porch to see the real mess. One of the philodendrons I have been nursing for several years was indeed sprawled out onto the floor. I could not believe the mess. I had even set a heavy jar of Be-Bes into the dirt of the pot to give it enough weight to prevent just such a thing from happening.Dennis had been on his way uptown for a errand. I waved him on and I stayed behind to try to make heads or tails as to where to begin with the mess.
Butter Ball refusing to let the garbage take what he
thought would be his playthings for the afternoon.I have always been told by Dennis to be careful what was vacuumed up in regard to leaves and such as the 10 foot hose being plugged would be a real challenge to poke the debris clear. I went back into the garage and got a small rake and began raking up the larger stems and leaves. As I turned my back for a moment, Butter Ball was on the lower shelf of the table hooking out stems and leaves. Ugh!
That was the straw that broke the camel’s back in regard to the philodendron. It hit the garbage. It was not meant to survive the schnanigans of Butter Ball. When the vacuum was started, Honey Bunny scattered from the noise while Butter Ball kept circling around me and trying to paw at the hose. No fear there.
Honey Bunny never gave us an headaches as she was brought into the porch as a kitten. Butter Ball will tackle anything. I think a nanny cam would be very interesting to see what goes on in the porch during the night. Dennis often comments that when he goes out in the morning all the cushions from the rockers and chair can be on the floor or drug farther.
Through it all, pets are just little thieves of our hearts. They don’t hold a grudge, they love unconditionally. Now, if only we could get Butter Ball’s mom to get a bit friendlier and get her to the vet clinic, that would be great. I don’t know how many more kittens of her’s we can handle.
